


7 Is My Lucky Number

by LaCana (Paperbackedbastard)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Apprentice (The Arcana), Nonbinary Character, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paperbackedbastard/pseuds/LaCana
Summary: Note: There are 6 dates before the plot in case you just want oneshots/slice of life.[See first chapter notes for original intro]After everything with the Devil, you finally managed to settle down with your partners. It took a bit of work, sure, but now you're pretty damn happy. Each of them have you for one day every week, Sunday being your downtime. Everything is going great...... But what if, just what if, the masquerade fiasco raised the collective consciousness of the Devil? And what if that gave him more power?What if he comes back?Your fears become reality, and there's almost nothing you can do about it.Almost.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Apprentice/Nadia (The Arcana), Apprentice/Portia Devorak, Asra (The Arcana)/Reader, Asra/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Reader, Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader, Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader, Nadia (The Arcana)/Reader, Portia Devorak/Nadia, Portia Devorak/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wrote this in first person because it's easier for me to write that way, but I edited it to be second person because I like reading /reader fics in the second person the most. So, please do tell me if I mess up somewhere, if I accidentally skipped over on editing a certain pronoun or something.  
>   
> [Original intro]  
> I have a prologue. Basically, somehow, you got all your partners to put up with eachother. P l e a s e,,,,.... don't ask me about the backstory. All I've put thought into, is, the Lucio in Muriel's route, wasn't actually Lucio. Just some jerk-ish, Idk, illusion orchastrated by the Devil. 
> 
> I'll update this intro later. It's just a bunch of drabbles-esque writing. A NSFW version might come out, but it'll be a separate work. For now, just some cussing for comedic effect, I suppose. Maybe some hints at the knick-knack paddywhack. But not the actual thing.  
> Important PSA : MC is named Angel.

You were tugging on your sleeves, wrought with anxiety. The Arcana didn’t want to tell you shit. The familiars wouldn’t even give you hints as to how their counterparts might react. Aimless wandering around the streets of Vesuvia as you chewed on your lower lip led you to a familiar door. Knock one, knock two, and Mazelinka opened the door. She smiled at you. “If you want one of my little troublemakers, neither are here,” she said. You sighed.  
“No, I… I actually think I came to ask you for advice,” your shoulders slumped. Your willpower deflated. She tutted and let you in, and as soon as the door was closed, she was cooking.  
“Did Ilya give you trouble? Or did Pasha get into it?” she asked. You laughed a bit.  
“Ah, no, no…” You trailed off, not sure how to put it. But then, a quiet little thought struck you. “... why don’t you act weird about this? Me wanting both of them?” You asked, cringing a little at how blatantly crude your phrasing was. She put her hands on her hips and hummed for a moment or two.  
“You travel. You see things. You meet people. Other countries, kingdoms, cities… Many have it be normal. I myself never felt that way, but Ilya’s theatrics often were over more than two crushes.”  
“Do… Do they think that it’s normal…?”  
“I would suppose so. Not that they’d care if they didn’t, you’ve met the rascals.”  
“...huh,” You laughed a bit. “But… what about, if I felt the same for… more, more others?”  
“Well, then you tell them.” She stated firmly. You opened your mouth to inquire further, but she pointedly thunked a bowl of soup down in front of you. “Eat. Worrying will make you sick, I’ve cared for Ilya long enough to know that.” 

You stared down at your soup. You knew when you were defeated. You picked up the spoon that you were given and ate. 

When you were nearly done, you looked to Mazelinka again. “If I try to talk to them, they’ll all just want to shout over one another,” You frowned. She laughed, turning around to take care of her dishes.  
“So tell them one at a time!” She stated, simple as that. You stopped, and banged your head off of the edge of the table.  
“Oh! Duh!” You groaned. She chuckled.  
“Wait, but- what if… what if they don’t… I dunno, approve?” Came your whimper. She swung around, hand planted firmly upon her hip, waving her spoon around threateningly.  
“Well then, either they let you love others or they don’t get your love. Instead, they get my spoon and a good hard thwack upside the head!” She scowled. You look down at the bowl with only a sip or two left in it, staring off in silence. Then you shoved yourself off of the stool and surged forwards to hug her. She very nearly startled for a moment, before she hugged you back. Then she shooed you away. “Now you go,” she said, waving her spoon at you playfully.  
You nodded and took a breath, downing the last decadent dredges of your soup. Then, you dashed off, racing down to your shop to talk to Asra. You skidded to a stop and flung the door open. You couldn’t help it. The thought of them all just… being happy with you... it lifted the pain far from your chest, sickening giddiness replacing it. 

Hm. Not in the shop, or in the back. You flew up the stairs, startling the colour right from both Asra and Ilya’s faces. You stared at them. They stared back. Ilya looked stricken sick, and Asra had that polite type of shock on his face. You acknowledged, to yourself, internally, how you must have looked. Red-faced, disheveled. But them? You understood that the table was small, but… their legs were tangled together a bit more than would be normal for either of them. Ilya’s things- coat, boots, hat… were strewn about haphazardly- a habit exhibited only to those that he deeply trusted. 

You shifted a bit, rather awkwardly. “... um.” Ilya’s face quickly started turning red, and Asra’s surprise turned to smile. Ilya spoke first.  
“Listen, Angel, I-! We-! We were just- you- It’s not what it looks like,” He stammered out. You and Asra spoke at the same time.  
“Isn’t it?” Asra asked.  
“It looks like you were almost cuddling,” You said dumbly.  
…  
Silence.  
…  
“I’m sorry,” Ilya looked crestfallen.  
“What?” You asked.  
“For- For not telling you, I guess?” He asked.  
What? … oh. Oh. Realization quickly dawned upon you. You scowled.  
“You…” You started.  
“Angel, I-” Asra began, sighing like he was suddenly the only responsible one in the room.  
“You little shits!” You yelled, your voice rising. Asra’s smile dropped to shock once more, and Ilya looked taken aback, like he’d expected you to respond in a gentle, accepting manner. You took no mind, beginning to pace the room. “You little bastards! Here I am, spending all week avoiding all of you, not knowing how you’d react, not knowing if you’d want me after I told you, and you just-! Ugh! Fuck you!” You threw up your arms furiously. You weren't really, truly mad- but damn, were you frustrated!  
The boys quickly caught on, and Asra just did the dumbest thing… laugh. You scowled at him. “What’s so funny!?” You demanded as he came up to you.  
“Angel, darling, we… Well, I, I had thought it simply went unspoken,” He said, kissing the corner of your mouth. You grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it.  
“No- No kisses for you! I’m mad at you!” You pouted. Ilya saw his opening and he took it, coming up behind you and hugging you close to his chest. He buried his face into your hair.  
“Oh, dearest Angel- the sun and the stars, will you ever forgive us?” He asked, his arms suddenly flying away from you as he swooned dramatically backwards onto the pillow-piled-high bed. You smacked him with the pillow too.  
“No. Never,” You stated, but you were smiling. They knew, you were starting to feel better. Ilya grinned, breaking the act to swoop up and steal a kiss, while Asra just chuckled and went to put on some more tea.  
You knew what had just happened, but you still felt a little awkward cuddling Ilya with Asra just. Over there. He eventually came over, pressing apologetic kisses to your jaw. You sighed, running your fingers through Asra’s fluffy hair. “It’s not just you two, you know,” You said. Asra nodded.  
“I know. Muriel,” He said, beaming. Ilya shook his head.  
“No, Pasha,”  
“What? No, they told me that they’re with Muriel, too.”  
“Yes, well Pasha told me that she’s with them,” Ilya argued. You sighed, and put your hands on both of their faces to shut them both up.  
“You’re both right. But you’re also both wrong. It’s not just them,” You gave them both apologetic glances. Realization hit them both at the same time. Julian’s eyes widened and jaw dropped, whilst Asra’s gaze hardened, his posture stiffened, and his lips formed a thin straight line.  
“Angel, you can’t possibly mean Lucio,” Asra said gently.  
“He tried to kill me! And I was just _cuddling_ you!” Julian sputtered out, fury and aggression building up inside of his body, just threatening to escape via a fit. You groaned, covering your face with a pillow to hide the tears and disguise the anxiety building in your chest. 

“See- this is why I didn’t want to tell you-!” You choked out. “Neither of you understand! He’s changed! He’s trying really hard, you weren’t there when-” You shuddered violently, the image of your ghost in your head. For a split second, the memory was so vivid that you could feel the hand in yours, ashen coal crumbling to dust against your own skin. You could see the charcoal stains embedded into your fingerprints. Lucio’s distraught wails, him realizing that he had hurt you.. You were going to be sick if you didn’t get this out of your head. You tensed up, trying to focus on something- anything else. But, fuck, it was hard. Julian pulled you into his arms, all former anger gone. Asra gently moved the pillow from your face.  
“Hey. It’s okay. I… we... “ he sighed. “I don’t… like this… but… I trust you, Angel. And you’re right, he has been trying. We’ll… we’ll try too. We’ll get it.”  
You stared at him. He stared back. Neither of you believed it, but you both wanted to. At least, on the idea that it would be easy. You sighed, giving in, nuzzling into Asra’s hand.  
You'd both try. 


	2. Monday: Muriel, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially wrote this in first person because it's easier for me to write that way, but I edited it to be second person because I like reading /reader pics in the second person the most. So, please do tell me if I mess up somewhere, if I accidentally skipped over on editing a certain pronoun or something.

Early morning light washed over Vesuvia. The tall cities, with their towers that interrupted the clouds, cast delicate shadows across the smaller towns. You tried to trace the winding roads with your finger across the windowpane, but they snaked too far, became too blurred. You couldn’t trace them very far. You retired your finger to the patterns on your window from the protection spells you put up for Muriel’s sake.  
Muriel. You smiled to yourself.  
It wasn’t easy, situating yourself into the situation that you are in. Like, really not easy. Mainly because of Lucio. You snorted to yourself a bit. He was a clueless thing, but he was trying.  
Once, well… everything, had settled down, you stood your ground and stubbornly refused to just pick one partner. It wasn’t too hard for most of them.  
Asra and Ilya were undoubtedly the easiest to sway, you don’t know what exactly they were before, but… whatever it was, the dust had cleared and what was left was a romance they tried to keep hidden. They were terrible at it and they pretty much confessed when you came to them about this, but they seem to think that they have gotten away with it. You hadn’t called them out on it yet. You didn’t want to ruin their silent touches, their brief smiles, their loving glances. It was far too adorable.  
Nadia and Portia? They were a fun couple to persuade. Nadia made that thinking face and steepled her fingers. At the time, it made your throat catch with fear. Now, it just makes you laugh, the expression is by far too endearing. Portia, on the other hand, let out the longest sigh, and had startled Nadia out of her thinking to stammer out, “Would you like to go out on a date?”  
Lucio agreed easily. He was hesitant- he was afraid that, because of how much the others still hated him, they might be prone to hurt you, but… He knew that it would make you happy, and he knew to trust you.  
Muriel… Muriel was the hardest. He despised Lucio, and despite him knowing that who you two had faced on your travels wasn’t truly Lucio, that didn’t stop what Lucio did before his goat-era. It made your heart wrench, You felt like you were betraying him. But then, Asra talked to him, to the both of them. You have no idea what they said to each other, but afterwards, Muriel came and leaned into you. He said that he trusts you.  
It all boiled down to, well, how much they trusted you, you suppose.  
You stretched and picked out your clothes for the day. Monday. Muriel. You made sure to grab the shawl he had made for me. He had delicately embroidered flowers onto it. You ran your thumb over them, thinking about him.  
A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Portia came bouncing in, smiling at you. “Ah! You’re already awake,” she beamed. “Nadia is just about to sit down for breakfast,” She said. You hummed.  
“Is Lucio behaving himself?” You asked. She laughed.  
“He tried to help the cook!”  
“Oh no. Is it safe to eat?” You grinned.  
“Oh, don’t you worry. He was chased out with a spoon!” She said, bringing your clothes over to you. She leaned against the bed as you stepped behind the divider to change. “Milady has been so much happier these days. Even when she gets one of her headaches, she’s so much brighter. Even with him around! And really, he is getting better. Oh, you should have seen Lucio- the other day he was reading to some kids,” She mused. You popped your head around the side of the divider.  
“He did!?” You gaped. That’s a huge step, especially for him! Pasha nodded gleefully.  
“He did! Oh… I… I feel that I should mention, not human kids. Like-”  
“Like goat kids?” You interrupted her.  
“Yeah,” She snorted. “Like goat kids.”  
“Ugh. That’s more on-brand for him though, I suppose,” You shook your head adoringly as you slipped your shirt on. You stepped out from the divider so that she could help you with the buttons and such. She joyfully stole a kiss once you two were done.  
“You pack up, okay? I’ll see you downstairs,” She said, nabbing a cheek kiss before bounding down the halls. Once again, you shook your head and laughed at the ridiculously endearing behaviors of your partners.  
You packed together your bag, having spent the last 3-4 days at the palace. You glanced around your room to give it a once-over. This room, which had previously been your guest room, was now just your permanent room. Often, you’d spend your Sundays in here- those were your days to yourself. 

Once you had confirmed that you had everything except for whatever you had forgotten, as Ilya would say, you went down to the dining hall. You wouldn’t be staying for the entirety of breakfast, as you had already missed some of it, but chances were all three of Nadia, Lucio, and Portia would still be there. You entered the room, and Nadia looked up, a sly smile upon her face. Portia was blushing profusely. You snorted. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” You asked.  
“Oh, certainly not,” Nadia said smoothly, turning away from Portia to sip on her wine. You walked over to the two of them, lightly kissing them both on the cheek. You noted the absence of your former Count.  
“Where’s Lucio?” You asked.  
“Oh, he finished breakfast quickly. He is eager to start on his projects,” Nadia smiled. Oh right, his projects. He wasn’t Count anymore- Nadia strictly stripped him of the title, and refused to give it back until he had mended his neglected cities. And, with his redeeming tangent, he had not too many complaints about it.  
Nadia reached over, swiping a strand of hair behind your ear. You found yourself, without thinking, leaning into her touch. She pulled her hand away and you very nearly protested- but she stood up, signaling for Portia to do the same. “Do you have a thicker shawl? It looks like rain.” You shook your head.  
“No, it’s already packed up, but I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” You said. Nadia frowned in disappointment.  
”It? You only have one? How I have disserviced you, my dearest Angel. I shall have to commission some more for you, then. Ramie silk, Vucana wool, or cashmere for the inner linings?” She asked. You opened your mouth to respond, but she cut you off. “Oh, no matter. I shall send for all three of them and we will see which of them that you like the best.”  
You and Portia exchanged a helpless glance. There was no hindering Nadia once she got like this.  
“Now,” Nadia states with a soft clasp of her hands. “Let us at least walk you to your carriage,” she said. It was not a question- and even if it was, her warm smile would rile no argument from you.  
With Nadia’s hand on the small of your back and the rest of you aching for her secure touch, and Portia with her arm around your shoulders, the three of you walked down the path to the gates. When you reached your destination, the carriage was already there, waiting to take you to the edge of town. You bid farewell to Portia and Nadia. Nadia took your chin firmly- but softly, and led you into a kiss that left you nearly whining at her for breaking it as you sharply gasped for air. She was practically addictive. Portia gleefully bounced up and stole a kiss to the corner of your mouth, and you turned and kissed her fully.  
“Don’t get into too much trouble, okay?” Pasha teased. You lightly shoved her with your shoulder.  
“I should be saying the same to you and Nadia!” You laughed.  
You then glanced around- and then frowned a bit- but then you shook yourself. “Tell Lucio I said bye, okay?” You smiled. You then turned to your carriage and was just about to step in, when there was the furious tap tap tap tap - ing of running heels across the smoothed stone. You stopped and turned, one foot on the step and one hand on the handle, to see Lucio, making a mad dash to meet you before you left. He took you by the waist and spun you around dramatically, earning an eyeroll from Nadia. You kissed his cheek, to which he gave you a pout. It was then your turn to roll your eyes and give him a direct kiss, and only then was he satisfied enough to place you back down. He grasped at one of your hands, lifting his arm to help you into the carriage.  
He flashed you one of his practically trademarked winning smiles. “I love you, dearest Angel. Don’t be afraid to swing by if you need anything, alright? Anything at all during your week, you know how Noddy and I love to spoil you,” he said.  
“Yes, dear, I know,” You responded, squeezing his hands softly and kissing him back.  
“And- and don’t forget to tell your stove salamander that I said hi!” He gasped. You laughed.  
“I won’t, dear. I’ll see you later, now,” You said with a smile, waving before you closed the carriage door. With the click of the latch signaling that you were ready to depart, the driver took off. You delved into your bag to retrieve a book of yours to read during the short trip- only to smile, realizing that one of your partners must have snuck some cookies into the bag. Upon closer inspection, your heart melted. Little lemon cookies. They were obviously for Muriel. You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized that you had been holding. You decided to just watch the scenery and run your fingers over Muriel’s handiwork on your shawl for the short duration of the travel.  
The driver dropped you off at the edge of the forest, and you thanked both them and their two gorgeously groomed horses. You knew the way by heart by now- You could walk there while you read. On your way, you found yourself idly picking flowers.  
And then the clouds opened up. Cursing yourself for not having listened to Nadia, you took towards Muriel’s hut like your feet were on fire. You didn’t get there though, not on your own. About halfway there, you ended up smacking face first into something. Shit, did you run into a tree? You stumbled back, the brunt force causing you to topple and fall backwards on your ass. You were rubbing your nose, sneezing a bit as an automatic bodily reaction to the minor facial trauma. You looked up. Oh! It wasn’t a tree! You had run face-first into Muriel’s chest!  
You brightened up at the sight of him, while he looked stricken. “A- Angel- are you… are you alright? I didn’t- I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He fretted, kneeling down to help you up. You laughed.  
“I’m fine. Can we get out of the rain, though?” You asked. He nodded.  
“I’m sorry, I should’ve paid more attention to my surroundings,” he said. “You hadn’t arrived yet, and when the rain started, I began to worry, and-“ You cut him off by lacing your fingers together. His face went bright red. You smiled. Even after all this time, after everything that you had already done together, the simplest of actions could still fluster him.  
You magicked a small shield above the two of you, the rain pattering down upon it. Upon reaching his hut, You let it fall as he ushered you inside. He dropped down by the fireplace, adding some more wood. Then, Muriel gently, wordlessly pulled you down to sit by him. He took ahold of one of the furs he had and draped it over your shoulders.  
“Are you okay?” He asked. You were going to answer, but then you took a breath- A breath of the herb and spice scented cabin, natural pewter and firewood ash filled your head in a hazy, heady scent. A contrast to the elaborate, elegant, and expensive floral concoctions that filled the castle. You loved the smell- but you were taken a bit off guard by it. You sneezed. You sneezed once, and Muriel just about all but lost his shit, instantaneously blathering about you having caught cold. He added another fur to your shoulders and very nearly shucked his kettle onto the hook above the fireplace. Before he could fret even more, you grabbed his hand.  
“Sit by me. Warm me up,” You asked of him nicely. He blushed and looked like he wanted to protest- but down he sat. He hesitated before he pulled you into his arms, and you shifted onto his lap to curl up against him. His hand hovered near your hair, and you leaned back to encourage him. Reassure him that he could touch you, love you, want you. You wrapped your arms around his waist and nuzzled into his chest, lightly rubbing the small of his back with your thumb. He pet your hair in time to your strokes, and stroke by stroke, he soothed. The kettle was close to boiling when he moved to cup your face with his hand. You nuzzled into his palm as he led you away from his chest. You stretched up, lightly kissing the corner of his mouth. He turned his head so that his lips brushed over yours before pressing forwards, kissing you proper. You wrapped your arms loosely around your neck, smiling into the kiss. It was a long moment before you two pulled away from each other. One of his hands was comfortably on your back, in between your shoulder blades. His other cupped your ass solely in a manner that supported your position.  
“.... I missed you,” he said, averting his eyes. He hated showing jealousy  
“I missed you too, love,” You said back, running your fingers through his hair. He shuddered a bit, pressing you closer to him, and you pressed your lips soft and flush to his forehead. In your peripheral vision, you saw his eyes flutter closed. You were about to make another move, but he moved you off of his lap, leaning forwards to grab the teapot. He got down a small woven basket, full of teas. “You pick,” He said. You smiled up at him. Ever since you and Asra found out that he didn’t keep tea in his hut, you very nearly went ape and instantly got him teas, alongside a new kettle. As you mindlessly sifted through the little looseleaf bags, you silently thought of him and Asra. You’re really glad that they have each other, they’re always happier in each other’s presence. Finally, you picked out the lemon tea. You were going to do so from the start, but if you did it too fast, Muriel might protest against you choosing it just for him. Did you choose it just for him? Yep. It wasn’t your favourite, but it was still good. You held it out to him and he brightened up. You jumped a bit, remembering the cookies. He didn’t see- him putting away the rest of the teas in the basket.  
He turned his back to prepare the tea. As he did, you decided to strip off the wet clothing. Damn, the rain had soaked all the way through. You laid them out near the fire to dry, sprawling out on the furs, pulling one over your shoulders. It felt nice. Muriel turned around and came over to you, sitting down by you.  
“It has to steep,” he said. You nodded, sitting up. You tugged the furs tighter around your shoulders. He saw your clothes on the stone by the fire and he picked the sturdier items up, draping them delicately across the top of the fireplace.  
An arm around you, he warmed you up for some minutes before he stood to retrieve the tea. The fire flickered and sparked, sending soft embers nipping out at your knees. Watching each flame twist, each breath of fire churn in on itself and mingle with the others- the light grew hazy. You snapped to attention when Muriel touched your shoulder, offering you tea. You sat next to each-other in silence as you two sipped the tea, falling back under the trance of the fireplace.


	3. Muriel, 2/2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I damn near cried when I saw over 150 hits and 5 kudos. I'm just a simple gay, thank you for reading. 
> 
> Also, for what it's worth, there are 1697 words in this chapter. 1 69 7. Nice.

A hushed whisper from Muriel, a soft whimper from Inanna, is what woke you up. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you sat up. He shyly wavered under your gaze.  
“Morning, Muriel,” you yawned.  
“Hello, Angel. Did we wake you up?”  
“Mmm… maybe,” You hummed, stretching.  
“Sorry,” he said. “I was just about to head out for some ingredients for some lunch, now that the rain has let up… Do you want to come with me?” He asked. You nodded, grabbing your clothes from the fireplace and pulling them back on. He had politely averted his eyes when you did. Inanna trotted up to you, aggressively shoving her snout into your hand, demanding pets. You laughed, kneeling down, fluffing at her cheeks as you kissed at her forehead. Eventually, she was satisfied, and padded back to Muriel. You stood up and went over to him as well, grasping at his hand. You followed him out the door, and then you and Inanna flanked him. The doorway was too small for you to do it before.  
“What are you thinking of?” You asked him.  
“A sort of soup,” He mumbled. “The ingredients should all be around here…”  
“Okay! What are we looking for?”  
He gave you a verbal list. Yeah, you knew most of those.  
He led you through the forest, eventually coming across a clearing. A small field, no clean line between the trees and the grass. Most of the grass swept up to your knees, but there were carefully-trodden paths. Following Muriel through the golden greenery, insects and animals paid very little mind to you. The sunlight was in your eyes no matter how you tried to shield them, a stilled and indifferent pendulum in the sky. The recent rain made the itchy grass stick to your legs and the dirt and leaves to your shoes. Post-rain petrichor and soaked redwood filled the humid air.  
You spotted the telltale curls of spring onions and parted from Muriel. Crouching down, the wet soil made it easy for you to unearth the roots. Near the onions was both garlic mustard and some other herbs. Soon, with a fistful of stems and dirt under your nails, you stood to look for your lover. He had collected a myriad of other flowers and leaves. Wading through the grass, you walked over to him. You tapped his arm and gestured for him to lean down. When he did, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. His face immediately flushed as he stammered at you, eliciting a laugh that you couldn’t help but give. He kind of regained his composure, calling for Inanna, who was rolling in the grass. She hopped up and tried to shake off the grass and dew to little avail. You began the trek back home, Inanna happily padding after you. She would occasionally dart in front of you two before falling back behind. She was patrolling.  
When you got home, you went about washing off all the grass bits and dirt. You tried to rope Inanna into a magicked stream of falling water, but she took the job upon herself to clean you, tackling you into the water and licking your face all over. She finally relented once you couldn’t breath from the laughter that she caused by her inadvertent tickling. You managed to get up, looking around for Muriel. He was off to the side, washing the foods in the creek. You watched him for a moment- the midday light hitting his resting solemn expression just right. You hoped despite knowing doubt that he knew how pretty he was. Inanna nudged you for pets, getting you out of your lovestricken-stupid trance. Ruffling her fur, she shed all over your damp and thus apparently fur-magnetized sleeves and bodice. You were soaked. Again.  
Whoops.  
Looking to Muriel again, he still had no problem with keeping dry. Playful ‘jealous’ thoughts went through your head, lighthearted.  
And then an idea struck you.  
You grabbed at a small satchel you had on your person- it was waterproofed. You dipped it into the water before, holding it carefully, you slowly began to approach Muriel. Inanna eyed you with a curious, suspicious look, cocking her head to the side. You motioned for her to be quiet, and then you could have sworn that you had seen her wink.  
Finally, you got up to Muriel. And you dumped the satchel on his head. He startled, glancing up at you with wide, shocked eyes. For a moment, you began to fear that you had scared him more than surprised him, but then his expression melted to love. You collapsed against him, hugging him with your arms slung loosely around his shoulders, nuzzling into his neck. He stood, making you slip off. He faltered a moment before walking into his hut, allowing you to grasp at his hand before going.  
Drying off and changing into more comfortable clothes, you got a damp cloth and actually began to clean up Inanna while Muriel started to shred the ingredients. Once Inanna was groomed, you both went to sit next to him. You loved watching him work with his hands- so many assumed that his hands would be too big for anything intricate, but he could truly achieve such fine, detailed results. Nimble fingers easily destemmed the leaves, plucked petals from flowers, and peeled the slimy dirtied top layer from the spring onions. He had a small basin for extra rinsing, with the onions went through. He began to sort the ingredients. You decided you were hungry, and so you reached over to snatch a flower. He gingerly took your hand, redirecting you.  
“Wait,” he reprimanded with no real heat. And so, you did, you waited for an opening to snatch up a flower- two, actually. Before he could pluck them from your grasp, you shoved one in your mouth and tossed the other to Inanna. He tried to grab that one, but she was faster than him.  
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, a bit tense.  
“But I’m hungry,” you said.  
“That’s why I’m cooking for you.”  
“Not just for me.”  
“No, for Inanna too.”  
“Muriel!” You snapped lightheartedly at him.  
“Yes, okay, I’m going to eat too.”  
“Thank you.”  
“As long as you leave me with ingredients to actually do it with,” he mumbled. “No patience. This is what happens when you spend time with Devorak,” he said. You gasped, opened your mouth to protest, but knew that he was right.  
“Yeah… okay, I can’t argue about that influence… You know, unless it was actually _my_ influence on _him_ that led to impatience…” You mused, grabbing a spring onion, snapping it in half, and tossing half to Inanna. He gave you a mildly snatching-pearls-esque horrified look, either at your suggestion or at the sheer audacity that you grabbed yet _another_ ingredient of his, or both, you supposed that you shall never know.  
The rest of the kitchen prep was essentially him trying to navigate you and Inanna relentlessly using the ingredient selection as a buffet. And, by you and Inanna, it wasn’t just you grabbing at things. You had burst into laughter when, while Muriel was facing you to scold you for grabbing a third thing ( red clover ), she hopped up and lunged forwards to get some purslane. He then gave her the look of incredulous audacity.  
Soon enough, though, he managed to complete the task of prepping the pan, which was soon set over the fire. “Away from your fingers and her teeth,” he mumbled. You knew he wasn’t really mad though, he knew that he was signing up to date a little shit from day one. 

____

__

__

And, even if he was actually irritated, you still won either way because fifteen minutes later, the three of you were eating stir-fry with fresh greens and red clover. Eating might be too kind of a word though, because it was good to the point that you and Inanna were pretty much just tearing into it. But, to your credit, you were far more civilized on your second plates. 

After your meal, he fed the chickens before shyly showing you a project- a shawl that he was embroidering. You ran your fingers over the delicate patterns, praising him for his dedicated and hard work. His face flushed brightly, and he tried to shoulder your words, but you stopped that with a soft kiss to his lips. Now, that started another type of flustered stammering, but at least this one wasn't ( or, was at least _less_ ) self-deprecating. Sitting outside, he worked while you rotated between watching him and reading. Inanna ran around in circles before coming to sit with you to catch her breath, before starting up again. 

You don’t know when you fell asleep. But you do know there was a bleary moment of domestic sweetness, where you partially woke to your head on his lap with his hand delicately stroking your hair while he hummed an old song to you. That was an incredible treat, to hear his voice like this, and you’d regret drifting off again afterwards if you didn’t know that waking would result in him stopping. His calloused fingers would brush your temple down to your cheek with each stroke. Your sight was partially obscured, impaired with blurry sleepiness, but you know that you saw Inanna chasing after fireflies. You were so carefully tucked against him, and you could feel that his form relaxed and comfortable. Not defensive. Each breath was full and gentle.  
It lasted a slight moment, barely the length of a sighed breath, but it was a moment that reminded you why you loved him so much. Why you go through the whirlwind of your schedule, passing yourself around Vesuvia from lover to lover to give them all equal attention and love. You’d be lying if said you hadn’t had trouble adjusting. You’d be lying if you said that sometimes, you felt close to breaking. But you’d also be lying if you said that it did not all melt away from view, paling in comparison to how certain those precious, vital moments made you feel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feverish right now... so forgive me if it does not make any sense, or has typos. * This * close to not doing transitioning chapters anymore.

Golden light filtered through the window shutters, accented by the smell of citrus and spices. You sat up slowly, the blanket that had been draped over you, presumably by Muriel, had now slipped down. Asra handed you a bowl of spiced oatmeal, which quickly disappeared in your care. "Are you awake now?" he asked with a smile and a singular quirked eyebrow. You stretched and gave him a nod, tilting your head back to give Muriel a kiss. He leaned over for a proper kiss, which you happily gave to him.  
"Are you ready to go?" Asra reached over, delicate fingers gingerly nudging a stray lock of hair behind your ear. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, nuzzling into his warm palm like a melodramatic cat who hadn't been pet in over five minutes. So, you know… Like Ilya. Asra pressed his lips flush to your forehead before you pulled away and nodded.  
"I need to get dressed first though. Get out." You stated. Muriel obediently stood, but Asra just gave you a sly grin.  
"I could help you, dearest-" he didn't get to finish, you lightly smacking him with a pillow.  
"Out. Only Inanna and Faust are allowed to help," you started with a smile. The familiars aforementioned must have overheard, because Faust slithered over to your lap while Inannna began dragging your bag over to you. You laughed and gave her head pats before she started herding the boys out of the door. Asra chuckled, closing the door after him, talking to Inanna. You sifted through your garments. Finally coming across some loose clothing, an opaque but light scarf, and just sturdy but thin slip-on shoes. You looked to Faust. "What do you think, pretty girl?" You cooed. She cocked her head to the side and stuck her tongue out at you. She seemed to be smiling, and so that was good enough for you, you supposed. as you stripped down and re-dressed. Shouldering your bag and Faust on the other arm, you walked out of the tiny little, albeit pleasantly cozy, hut. You reached over to Muriel, taking his hand and standing on your toes for a kiss. He hesitated, your eyes were closed but you presumed that he was blushing over Asra being right there. As you heard Asra speaking about the weather to Inanna, you felt Muriel kiss you back. Wrapping your arms around his neck, him slowly putting his hands on your hips. You pulled away slowly. "I love you," you promised him. It took a moment, but he mumbled it back. "I love you too," he said to you. You grinned and kissed his nose before pulling away and giving Inanna some forehead kisses. Asra hugged his friend good-bye. Then, Asra extended his hand out to you and you gladly grasped it, Faust slithering down his arm to partially curl over yours and partially curl over his.


	5. Asra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, this fic is far from abandoned. I apologize for the intense, uncharacteristic delay. Remember that I felt feverish? Yeah, well, it turned into an emergency surgery. I've been ill and then healing. Delightful, no? How vivacious of me.

“Asra,” you giggled, “Where are we going?”  
“You’ll see,” He hummed, hands delicately over your eyes. He led you expertly from behind, seeming to know the terrain well. Finally, you two slowed to a stop.  
“Can I see now?” You borderline, playfully whined. You could practically feel him grinning, pausing a moment before lifting his hands from your gaze. 

In front of you was a miniscule meadow, guarded by towering red maples. The swathes of branches that tangled together let modest light pass, and what light did grace the ground had filtered through the crimson leaves, bathing the area in a delicate auburn.  
But that was far from all- it was rich with wildflowers, berries, and herbs, plenty enough for generous harvesting. Then, just on the edge... A gorgeous, healthy angel oak, the branches curling through the air and cradling the scene. 

You gasped and grabbed onto Asra’s arm in excitement. The scene played at the edges of your memory, spurring a whirlpool of emotions. They fiercely caught your heart and your throat and confused the two, and you had to remember to breathe and swallow everything back into place. 

“Do you remember?” He asked you softly, his tone tentative. You looked to him, into his darting eyes. Like he was almost afraid of the answer.  
“I think?” You said, not understanding his hesitance. He smiled a bit at you, softly holding your face. You tilted your head, nuzzling into his palm. “It brings back feelings. It’s familiar. But I don’t…. _remember_ it…? Does that make sense?” He nodded. “Oh-! It’s from before, isn't it?” You asked, referring to before you lost your memory.  
“A bit… I used to take you here, when you were upset,” he said, looking away from you and to the clearing. He began to lead you to a certain spot, with the grass tread on and the tall flowers scarce. Just large enough for two people, creeping chamomile and soft lamb’s ear as padding. He knelt down slowly, leading you to lay down.  
“It was somewhere secluded. If you wanted to scream, it would not frighten our neighbors. Sometimes, you’d just run. You’d run up the angel oak and refuse to come down until I brought you tea,” he laughed softly. “But, mostly, we’d just lay here on the chamomile. It was here, we revisited most floral remedies. And, if I recall,” he hummed, reaching over you, momentarily embracing you. He plucked a flower, and went back into his resting position and held it to you. “You adored borage-”  
You interrupted him by plucking the flower from his fingers and shoving it into your mouth.  
He stared at you.  
You stared at him.  
“I got excited,” you said around the flower, not chewing.  
“... Angel,” he said, obviously trying to suppress a smile.  
“Yes?”  
“You didn’t take the prickly bit off,” he said. You let your tongue fall out, whining.  
“I didn’t take the prickly bit off!” You exclaimed. He laughed, pressing soft lips to your forehead. He plucked another flower, and removed the prickly bit for you, before offering it to you. You took it, hands-free, from his fingertips. You missed that honey taste, with the delicate bitter-sweet light sapphire petals.  
He laughed and hugged you, kissing your nose. You kissed at his face back, before hopping up like the grass was ablaze. He looked at you in concern, then his face brightened into a smile as you darted for the angel oak. You scaled it with ease, no audiovisual memory, but muscle-memory fueling you. You climbed until you were above Asra, him looking the wrong way for you. You hadn’t _meant_ to be stealthy… You hooked your legs over the branch and swung down to meet him. You miscalculated, however, and accidentally smacked your face into his hair. Damn, that puffy cloud of locks with inexplicable volume was like a pillow. He startled, but then relaxed, turning to meet you. 

Then, he essentially all but committed treason, grinning wide and tickling your sides. The damned, beautiful bastard had been influenced by Ilya!  
Laughter bubbled up from your chest, trying to curl up and away from him, but the laughter inhibiting your upper body strength. You ended up toppling from the tree onto him. He startled once more, and you had the tickling advantage. He tried to swallow down the laughter, but that elegantly dorky giggle escaped. He finally managed to overpower you, just resting there with you tucked under his arms. You stared up at the canopy, gazed around at the foliage. You met his eyes, which had never strayed from your face, intently studying your facial features. 

He didn’t avert his eyes like he used to, and neither did you, threading your fingers through his cotton puff hair. 

You stayed there till nightfall, just watching each other, almost like an intimate staring competition. Softly efervescent. Not too ironically, magical in a sorcerer-less sense. 

He held you, not unlike he always had, but with more ease this time. Knowing you wouldn’t reject him. 

How could you? You loved him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College beating my ass 😔

The next day, Asra insisted on escorting you to Ilya. When you arrived, he kept his hands upon your hips. Ilya all but fell down the damn stairs when he heard the bell of the door. “Be right there-!” He called out. He ran his fingers through his wine-red hair to right it- you knew how much effort he put into the taming of his coiling locks. You watched as he fished an eyepatch -one Muriel had embroidered delicately as a sort of peace treaty between him and Ilya- to cover the scarlet of his eye, leaning into a mirror to do so.   
Then he turned to face who he thought was a customer, but was actually you and Asra. He lit up like a puppy-dog and dashed over to the two of you. “Angel! Asra!” He squealed. He cupped your face, long fingers curling around the nape of your neck, guiding your lips to his. You let go of Asra’s hand to grasp at Ilya’s fingers, and Asra made some type of jealous noise. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit. When you finally pulled away from Ilya, you went to the coat rack, your back turned to your boys. You hung up your most recently worn jacket, hearing them murmur to each-other. They still thought that they were discreet. Gods and stars and heavens, you loved them. They were so ridiculous sometimes. You made a point to stretch and make a noise as you did before you turned around to give them enough time to cease their mutual doting upon one another. You went back over to your boys, giving them both cheek kisses while standing up on your toes.   
“Did you have anything planned for today, Ilya?” You asked him. It was fine if he didn’t- you kept a list of things to do with your loves in case their designated weekday had crept up upon them without warning- but that never happened. Even though ever since the devil fiasco (technically the Devil, but he didn’t deserve the luxury of a proper noun’s capitalized first letter) your lovers were all as busy as they could be… They always seemed to be counting down the days to you. Even Ilya and Asra, and then Nadia and Pasha, who had each-other. Not to be self-deprecating, but you supposed it was the prospect of something uncommon for them, a type of semi-precious gift or treat.   
Ilya smiled at you. “I made a reservation at The Rowdy Raven!” He exclaimed in excitement. You, and even Asra, showed evident surprise.   
“They… They take reservations?” You asked the question that was on Asra’s face.   
“Nope!” He grinned even more than before. “That’s what makes it so significant.”   
“.... Babe, how did you reserve a table?” You asked him slowly. He stopped smiling.   
“You don’t want to know.”   
“Ilya,” Said Asra slowly and sternly. Ilya withered in a delightfully submissive manner. “How did you reserve a table when they don’t take reservations”   
“.... I stuck a knife in it,” he said.   
“You stuck a knife in it?” You wheezed, laughing.   
“I- I stuck a knife in it.” He stated in confirmation, nodding.   
“Ilya,” Asra said, shaking his head in disapproval, trying to hide his smile.   
“You know you love me,” Ilya cooed. Then he and Asra stopped, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You pretended to be interested in a book. Out of the corner of your own eye, you saw Ilya steal a kiss from Asra.


	7. Ilya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I'm so hyped. I finally thought of a plotline. 
> 
> I'll write the dates with Pasha, Nadia, and Lucio, though, before I start the plot, in case you're just here for the one-shots. (Although Lucio's date might have to do with the plot).

At the Rowdy Raven, you found out that Ilya had like, REALLY stabbed the table. There were like, five knives. And they were like, pretty deep in there.  
He ordered a round of salty bitters. Why the fuck had he done that?  
“Ilya, why did you do that?” Asra asked him, staring down at the cup.  
“I like them!” He protested.  
“You said they’re disgusting,” You countered.  
“When did I say that?” He gasped, affronted.  
“The day after the dock.” you said, not looking him in the eye and casting shade as you drank from your cup. The shade didn’t last long though, you recoiled and sputtered a bit. Asra stood.  
“I’m going to get us some more…. Uh…. suitable drinks.” Asra said, standing up. You nodded as Ilya protested, insisting that the drinks were just fine.  
“They taste like salty fucking copper coins, and you know it,” You retorted, leaning up to kiss at his jawline. He had opened his mouth to argue, but upon the kiss, he faltered. He shifted to face you, looming over you. He was pouting. “Awe, what?” You cooed, straightening his collar.  
“I want a proper kiss,” he whined.  
“Ask politely.”  
“Please?”  
“Hmmm……….” you thought for a long moment- just long enough to make him look a bit worried. “...alright,” you relented, leaning up to kiss him. He made some type of a happy sound, hugging you close. You had to break the kiss off to giggle- he just acted like such a damn puppy sometimes.  
Asra came back with some light, fruity drinks. He knew Ilya was a lightweight who would cavetch if the alcohol content was not even amongst the three of you.  
You spent the morning catching up with Ilya. You sat next to him, holding hands with Asra across the table, both listening simultaniously intently and cluelessly as he babbled about his previous day at work. 

Eventually, the sun rose to his zenith, at which point Asra apologized, as he had to leave for the rest of the day. You demanded a kiss first, which he gladly granted, only to be stalled by Ilya insisting he walk you to the theatre. Hm, the theatre? Ilya was grinning too damned much for this to be just a typical trip to the theatre. Asra agreed, under the condition Ilya admit that the salty bitters tasted like salted copper.  
“Asra, love, don’t do that to him,” You laughed.  
“Let me have my fun sometimes, my Angel,” Asra said to you, smiling. He had such a mischievous glint in your eye. You rolled your own, standing up and taking both of the boys’ hands in your own. You pulled them out of the Rowdy Raven before letting your fingers fall to their hips, having your arms around their waists, while they undoubtedly held each-other’s hands behind you. It wasn’t the easiest arrangement- Ilya walked much faster than you, and Asra walked a bit slower, but you made it work. Upon arrival, Asra pressed his soft lips to yours in good-bye.  
“I will see you next week,” he said softly. You nodded.  
“Or sooner,” You added. “I’ve got my astral projection nailed down.”  
“See you sooner, then,” He grinned, kissing you again. You turned into the theatre afterwards, letting the boys dote on each other for a few moments.  
Once inside, and after your boys were done, Ilya escorted you to a front row seat. “After our date at the theatre,” he started.  
“That was a date?” You arched an eyebrow. He sputtered, red-faced, before you pushed him gently. “I’m joking, babe! Go on,” You laughed. He huffed at you, but that dissolved with a soft cheek kiss from you. He proceeded to calm down and explain how, in his free time, he had been acting. There was a performance, this performance, that was particularly popular- The theatre group had taken some old Shakespearian play, fused it with Vesuvia’s history, and added Ilya’s dramatic and comedic flair, plus some magical special effects. He had made sure the seats beside you were empty so that you would have your arm room. Then he dashed off, looking just a tad bit too mischievous for comfort. 

The play was going great- Ilya, that dear boy, kept glancing at you on every joke. The further into the play, the more Ilya struggled to hide his smiles. You recognized that grin, those side-eyed glances- he was up to something. What was that boy planning?  
Your question was answered soon enough, at the last act. Out of nowhere, the music swelled, raising hairs on the back of your neck. Ilya took the center stage and he started tapping the toes of his high-heeled tap dance boots. This performance certainly must have been particularly popular, as the entire audience instantaneously began clapping or stomping in sync. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes- It was just like Ilya to throw choreography into Shakespeare. 

You thought that cheeky little addition might have been the source of his mischievous behavior, but You Were Wrong. He ran to the edge of the stage and knelt down, holding his hand out to you. You hesitated, slowly putting your hand delicately into his, and he tugged you out of your seat despite your surprised squeak of protest. He pulled you up onto the stage, not saying a word, but his lit-up expression giving everything away. So _this_ is what he had been planning. He began to lead you to the spotlight, angled at his original placement, keeping his good eye on you, and you watching him out of the corner of your own two eyes (weird flex, but okay). He placed one hand on your hip, the other loosely holding your hand. 

Suddenly, the every-rising music came to a halt, and the audience perfectly stopped with it. The orchestra, you saw them stretch, take a breath, and… suddenly began to energetically belt out an upbeat, dramatic song, somewhat reminiscent of Der Zigeunerbaron act III, March. Ilya excitedly began to dance. It wasn’t the first time you two have danced- after that first time, he danced with you all the time, in love with how in sync you two were. Flawlessly delving into a quickstep, you danced. Cheek by cheek. He held you close to his chest, you could hear his breathing, feel each breath. You pressed your cheek to his skin to be closer to him, tucking your nose just by his sternum. He went from a loose grip to lacing your fingers together, when you were suddenly pulled away from him, Ilya twirling you to arm’s length, your clasped hands keeping you with him- the brief action felt cold as ice, even if it had barely been a minute in his arms. Your hair whipped out of your face before he tugged you back close, crushing your locks against his shirt. His fingers loosened again. He beamed at you, so ebullient. Each step he made, you could feel the vibrations against the floor, you could feel his steps in perfect tandem with the metronome of the music. His breath became barely labored, and you two were dancing circles around each other without breaking contact. The crowd was cheering, but it was nothing compared to his heartbeat and the blood pounding in your ears. You felt him lace your fingers together. Oh, hell no. Before he could twirl you again, you twirled _him_. He looked so taken aback, but he burst into a grin. The audience, undoubtedly shocked, practically rioted. You pulled him close to you, but you didn’t resume dancing- no, he took the chance to get back at you for the surprise twirl, sweeping you off of your feet and dipping you. You, in clear view of the audience, grabbed his face and kissed him firmly. You were pretty sure even Nadia in her castle could hear the audience at this point.


End file.
